#nomad!steve

#steve rogers

#pre-serum!steve

#nomad!steve

#retired!steve

#husband!steve

#dad!steve

#knight!steve

#librarian!steve

#teacher!steve

#college!steve

#college athlete!steve

✪ FIC TYPE

#steve rogers headcanon

#steve rogers drabble

#steve rogers oneshot

#steve rogers twoshot

#steve rogers series

#steve rogers series masterlist

✪ VIBES

#steve rogers fluff

#steve rogers angst

#steve rogers hurt/comfort

He looked exhausted, haunted even. Steve said your name, and an apology stuck in his throat.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Rain was dripping from the ends of his hair, wetting his suit even more.

“You’re alive,” you said, but it didn’t come with the usual softness. It came out sharp. Small. Like these words carried all the hurt you endured for two years. Lost family. Broken friendships. The love of your life is gone.

Steve flinched. The coldness in his voice was unfamiliar to him. It was a stark contrast to the warmth and softness you showed only around him.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly. “I am.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep yourself from reaching out for him. Maybe hit him. Or even worse, fall apart in front of him.

You hated that he still held so much power over you.

“Two years, Steve.” Your voice cracked on his name. “Two years of rumors. Two years of checking the news every morning and wondering if today was the day I’d hear about your death. And the death of my friends…family.”

His jaw tightened, but his eyes were wet. “I wanted to call you, Y/N. I dialed your number so many times, but never pressed dial.”

You laughed, a hollow sound. Not the carefree laughter he loved so much.

“Then you should have, Steve. All I wanted was to know you’re still alive. I tried to reach out myself, even contact Tony, but…” You shook your head. “He didn’t answer my calls. Stark holds grudges.”

Steve looked down at his hands and sighed. “I know,” he whispered. “And I’m sorry. I need you to know that leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Y/N. It was the only way to keep you out of this fight. I didn’t…we didn’t want you to end up caught in the crossfire.”

Your throat tightened. For two years, you were angry. Now that you had the chance to yell, scream, and cry, Steve was standing in front of you, looking smaller than you remembered.

“I don’t forgive you yet, Steve,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Steve nodded once, like even that was more than he deserved. “Okay.”

“But I missed you,” you admitted. “I missed you so much that I hated you for it.”

His face fell. “I missed you, too,” he said. “Every damn day. But…we all decided it was best not to contact our families and loved ones. Sam was close to visiting his sister Sarah, but decided against it.”

You took one step forward before you could talk yourself out of it. Steve just stood there in the rain and waited.

“You’re soaked,” you murmured.

Steve nodded again, a broken smile on his face. “Yeah. I noticed.”

You stepped aside and opened the door wider for him to enter. “Come in before you lure in more strays, Rogers.”

He stared at you for a second, unsure if it was the right thing to do. “Are you sure?”

“No,” you said. “But I’m sure I don’t want you standing out there in the rain anymore. Especially on your birthday.”

Steve reluctantly stepped inside your house, feeling the warmth of your past envelop him. He took off his boots and dropped the duffel bag he was carrying next to them.

“Thank you.”

“It’s the only birthday gift you will get from me this year,” you said, your voice softer now. “You should get out of the suit and take a warm shower. We can talk later.”

“Yeah…later…”

“I’ve heard rumors of secret rooms,” you say, leaning in conspiratorially. “Do you know where I might find one?”

The figure chuckles softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Curiosity can be a dangerous thing, especially in a place like this. But perhaps I can show you something interesting. Follow me.”

You hesitate for a moment but decide to follow. He leads you through a hidden door behind a velvet curtain, into a dimly lit corridor that feels worlds away from the opulence of the ballroom. Your heart races with anticipation as you wonder what lies ahead.

The corridor twists and turns, and you lose all sense of direction. Finally, he stops in front of a door, turning to you with a mysterious smile. “Welcome to the heart of the masquerade,” he says, pushing the door open.

Inside the room is filled with rich tapestries, plush furniture, and a table laden with exotic drinks and delicacies. The air is thick with an intoxicating blend of perfume and something else you can’t quite place.

As you step inside, the door closes behind you, and you realize you’re not alone. Other guests are here too, their masks hiding faces but not their intent. You can feel their eyes on you, assessing, curious, perhaps even a little suspicious.

“What brings you here, my dear?” a voice purrs from the shadows. You turn to see another masked figure stepping forward, their eyes glinting with interest. “Surely, a woman like you has a reason for venturing into such dangerous territory.”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever comes next. “I was curious,” you admit, meeting his gaze with a challenge in your eyes. “I wanted to see what really goes on at these parties.”

A murmur of laughter ripples through the room. “Curiosity, indeed,” the figure replies. “But be careful, my dear. Sometimes, curiosity can lead you into places you might not be ready for.”

You smile, feeling a thrill of excitement. “I think I’m ready for anything.”

The figure laughs, a deep, rich sound that reverberates through the room. “Such bravery,” he says, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “It’s not every day someone new attends our little soiree with such confidence. I must admit, I find it rather refreshing. Enjoy your evening, my dear.” With a lingering glance and a sly smile, he steps away, melting seamlessly into the swirling throng of guests. The crowd seems to swallow him whole, his presence dissolving into the vibrant tapestry of masked revelers, leaving you with a sense of eagerness about what else the night holds.

You find yourself alone for a brief moment, your heart still racing from the encounter when the mesmerizing blue eyes of the stranger who led you into this secret hideaway meet yours once more.

“He’s deemed you worthy,” he says, handing you a flute of champagne while slowly circling you with an air of quiet authority. “I’m not sure what happens once they’re escorted from the property, but party crashers are usually never welcome.”

You tilt your head, intrigued. “You know I wasn’t invited?”

“Of course,” he replies with a mischievous grin, stepping closer. “One learns to notice these things. Your curiosity must be quite powerful to lead you here, especially without an invitation. It’s… intriguing.” His gaze flickers over you again, a blend of admiration and something darker, more alluring.

You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. “And what makes you so sure I’m not just another guest?”

He chuckles, leaning in so that his breath tickles your ear. “Because, my dear, you have the look of someone searching for something. Someone who desires something more but doesn’t yet know the rules of this game.”

You shudder, but you manage to keep your voice steady. “And what game is that?”

He leans back, his eyes never leaving yours, as if weighing your reaction. “The game of masks and secrets, where nothing is as it seems. Here, desires are hidden behind silken veils, and every gesture holds a thousand meanings. It’s a dangerous game, but one that promises much to those brave enough to play.”

You raise an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “And you think I’m brave enough?”

“I know you are,” he says, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, standing before me, daring to challenge the unknown.” He takes a step back, a playful glint in his eyes. “But be warned, my dear. The deeper you delve, the more perilous the game becomes.”

“Perhaps I enjoy a bit of danger,” you reply, a smirk playing on your lips.

He laughs again, the sound warm and inviting. “Then you’ll fit right in. Come, there’s much more to see, and I’d hate for you to miss out on the true heart of this masquerade.”

He extends his hand to you, and after a moment’s hesitation you take it, feeling a spark and your palms touch. With a graceful sweep he leads you deeper into the room, weaving through bodies that upon closer look are intertwined, with hands slipping up skirts, and down shirts. Lips kissing exposed flesh followed by excited squeals and sighs of content. The smell of arousal hung in the air like a blanket, your own walls clenching at the sight and sounds of those in various states of undress.

“Like what you see?” He purrs in your ear, his fingertips ghosting down your arm. You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from the spectacle, the decadent display of debauchery playing out before you.

He smiles, his eyes darkening with a hint of approval. "This is the true heart of the masquerade," he says, his voice low and velvety. "A place where inhibitions are cast aside and fantasies come to life. Here, you can be anyone, do anything, without fear of judgment."

He watches as his words sink in, the thrill of the unknown sending a jolt of excitement through you. "And what role do you play in this?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I am merely a guide," he replies, his eyes glinting with a secret knowledge. "Someone to show you the way, to help you explore the boundaries of your own desires. But be careful. The deeper you go, the more you may find yourself lost in the pleasure."

With that, he continues to lead you through the throng, his hand firm in yours, guiding you past couples locked in passionate embraces and groups giggling among shared secrets. Your heart pounds as you follow him, each step taking you further into a world where the lines of reality and fantasy blur, where every touch, every glance is a tantalizing promise of what might come next. And as you look into your guides’ eyes, you can’t help but wonder just how deep you’re willing to go.

He finally stops in front of ornate glass doors that open onto a balcony overlooking an expansive yard adorned with lush grass and meticulously manicured gardens. The area is bathed in the soft glow of floodlights, creating an enchanting scene that beckons you to step outside and take it all in, when suddenly, all light is cut plunging you and your companion in darkness.

“Let the games begin,” he chuckles as a voice comes over a speaker, a voice echoing a message throughout the grounds.

“Good evening, friends.” The voice crackles over the speaker, and you recognize it as the one who welcomed you into the secret room. “By now you should have chosen, or been chosen as the prize in tonight’s hunt. For those that have participated before, the rules are the same. For those who’s first time is tonight, welcome. The rules are simple. The prey will be given a bracelet that glows in the dark, the same color as your hunter to signify that you belong to them.”

On cue, two glowing blue bracelets are pulled from his pocket. Putting his champagne glass on the ground he fastens one to your wrist, securing the other to his. The voice continues.

“For the prey, the purpose is to not get caught. For the hunter, to catch. If you as the prey don't get caught within the hour, you win whatever your heart desires. However, if your hunter catches you, they get to do whatever they want with you, and some of our hunters have very vivid imaginations.”

You gulp down the rest of the champagne in your glass as your companion stares down at you, his eyes clouding over with need as he looks you up and down. “If at any time the prey feels scared, or unsure, they are welcome to use our predetermined safe words. Yellow to slow the scene, and red to stop play altogether. Prey, you will have a one minute head start. Use it wisely. Now, without further adieu, let the chase begin!”

A tone sounds throughout the yard, and you see various colors bouncing across the grass. It has begun. You feel his hand on your lower back, propelling your forward, the deep vibration of his voice ringing in your ear. “You heard the man- run!”

Your heart races as you stumble down the steps of the balcony, feet barely touching the ground before they pound against it again. The night is alive with colors swirling and dancing, blending into a chaotic blur that makes it hard to focus. Your gown tangles around your legs, almost causing you to trip, and you curse under your breath. The heels were a foolish choice for a party, but you never imagined the night would end like this—a chase.

Panic surges through you as you reach the bottom of the steps, realizing you only have a minute head start before the real pursuit begins. You kick off your heels one by one, the elegant shoes tumbling down the steps behind you, a useless luxury now. The cold earth against your bare feet is a harsh contrast to the adrenaline burning in your veins.

The tone’s echo is still fresh in your ears, a cruel countdown to the hunt that is about to commence. You glance back at the balcony, catching a glimpse of his dark silhouette moving with lethal grace, his eyes fixed on you, a predator savoring the thrill.

As you push forward into the yard, another sound pierces the night air—a second, deeper tone that reverberates through the space. Your heart sinks. The signal. The hunters are unleashed.

Your pulse quickens, each beat a reminder that the chase has officially begun. The ground is uneven, and you stumble, nearly falling, but you catch yourself just in time. Your heart pounds in your chest, the echo of the second tone mingling with the sound of your ragged breath.

You force yourself to focus, to push through the blinding panic and find your rhythm. The night air is cool against your skin, the fabric of your gown fluttering wildly as you run. You know you can’t afford to slow down. Not even for a moment. Every second counts, and every step you take is a gamble against being caught.

You reach a small clearing, and for a moment, you think you might have a chance. But then you hear his voice, low and commanding, cutting through the night. “The hunt begins now,” he calls out, his voice dripping with anticipation, and you know you have to find a place to hide.

Your head start is gone, and the real chase is on. You have to keep moving, have to find a way to escape. But as you glance around, the landscape stretches out before you, an endless maze of shadows and uncertainty.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. There’s still time, still a chance. You can outsmart him, you have to. With one last look over your shoulder, you turn and sprint into the darkness, the sound of his footsteps replaying in your ears, a promise that he is coming for you.

The cool grass is slipping under your bare feet as you navigate through the grounds. The sound of his footsteps is faint but unmistakable, a haunting rhythm that pushes you to keep moving. Every breath you take feels like fire in your lungs, and the cold night air does little to soothe the burning.

The yard seems to stretch endlessly, a labyrinth of hedges and trees that loom like silent sentinels. You can still hear his voice in your mind, taunting you with every step. “The hunt begins now.”

As you round a corner, you spot a dense thicket of bushes ahead. Without hesitation, you dive into it, ignoring the sharp branches that scratch at your arms and face. The foliage offers a momentary respite, a chance to catch your breath and listen. The world outside the bushes is a muted whisper, the sounds of the chase reduced to distant echoes.

You lean against the trunk of a tree, the rough bark digging into your back. Every muscle in your body aches, but you can’t afford to rest for long. Through the gaps in the branches, you see movement. Shadows flit across the clearing, and you catch a glimpse of the other hunters fanning out, their faces grim and focused. You close your eyes, hiding the glow of your bracelet underneath the folds of your dress, willing yourself to stay silent, to become invisible among the leaves.

Minutes pass, each one an eternity. The air is thick with tension, every sound a potential threat. You strain to hear any sign of him, but all you can detect is the pounding of your own heartbeat, loud and insistent in your ears.

Suddenly, the bushes rustle nearby, and you freeze. A shadow passes close, too close, and you hold your breath, praying they won’t notice you. The seconds drag on, each one a knife-edge of fear. Finally, the shadow moves away, and you exhale, sighing with relief.

You know you can’t stay hidden forever. You have to keep moving, find a way to outsmart him. But where can you go? The yard is vast, but it’s also a cage, and every path seems fraught with danger.

Taking a deep breath, you push through the bushes and emerge on the other side. The night is dark and silent, and you glance around, searching for a direction, any direction that might lead to safety. In the distance, you see the faint outline of a gate, a potential escape.

Gathering your courage, you break into a run, your feet barely making a sound on the soft grass. The gate is your only hope, the one place that might offer a way out. You can almost taste freedom, just a few more steps, a few more heartbeats away.

But then you hear it—a low growl, a shadow detaching itself from the darkness. Your heart skips a beat as you realize he’s found you. The chase is not over yet. With a last burst of speed, you dash towards the gate, your only thought is to reach it before he catches you.

The world narrows down to the sound of your breath, the pounding of your heart, and the relentless footsteps behind you. The gate looms closer, a beacon of hope in the darkness. You stretch out your hand, fingers grazing the cold metal, but it’s too late.

The gate, your last hope, fades into the night as he pulls you away, his grip firm and inescapable. He maneuvers you down a narrow, partially hidden path, the world around you slipping into shadows and silence. The darkness deepens, the trees forming a dense canopy overhead that blocks out the moonlight, casting long, eerie shadows on the ground.

The path opens up to a secluded glade dominated by a majestic willow tree. Its graceful branches hang low, swaying gently in the breeze, creating an almost magical aura. Four benches encircle its massive trunk, forming a quiet, intimate setting, hidden away from the rest of the world.

He guides you toward the willow, the leaves rustling softly as if whispering secrets of the night. The tree stands as a sentinel, its presence both imposing and serene, a stark contrast to the chaos you just escaped. The benches surrounding it are old but well-kept, their wooden surfaces smooth from years of use.

“Sit,” he commands, his voice low and firm. You hesitate, your legs trembling from the exertion and fear. But his grip on your arm tightens, a silent reminder that resistance is futile. You sink onto one of the benches, the cool wood pressing against your skin, grounding you in the surreal moment.

He takes a seat beside you, his presence overwhelming. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words. The willow’s branches shield you from outside eyes, and you don’t know if you should be thankful or terrified.

His eyes bore into yours, a predatory gleam flickering within their depths. “You should have known better than to think you could escape,” he says, his voice a velvet whisper. “But I must admit, it was quite the exhilarating chase.”

You shiver, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze and the weight of his words. The night is quiet now, the earlier sounds of pursuit replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant call of an owl. The tranquility of the setting is at odds with the tension coiled between the two of you.

He leans closer, “Tell me, kitten,” he murmurs, “what did you hope to find beyond that gate?” His tone is mocking, yet there’s an undercurrent of genuine curiosity that makes you hesitate.

His hand moves from your arm to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “You see, there’s no escape,” he continues, his voice soft but unyielding. “This is your world now, and I am its master.”

Under the willow’s whispering branches, the world outside feels a million miles away, the night’s tension giving way to an eerie calm. You sit on the bench, leaning away as he looms over you.

His fingers trace the edge of your mask, the intricate filigree pressing lightly against your skin. “You’ve been very naughty, sneaking into a party like this,” his voice soft yet carrying a hint of reprimand. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he begins to untie the ribbons that hold your mask in place.

You flinch as he lifts the mask away, the chilly night air kissing your exposed skin. You blink up at him, your breath catching as he removes his own mask with a deliberate, measured motion. The moment stretches into an eternity, and then his face is revealed, the moonlight casting a silvery glow over his features.

Steve?” The name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper, a mix of shock and recognition flooding through you. It’s him, your friend’s older brother, the one you’ve admired from a distance, never imagining he could be a part of this kind of secretive world. His dark eyes glint with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something that fills your being with need.

“Yes, it’s me,” he says, a slow, smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “I knew when I told my sister about these parties, she’d tell you. I counted on it, in fact.”

Your mind reels, piecing together the puzzle of his words. The exclusive masquerade party, the intrigue that had drawn you in, the chase that ended here, under the willow. It all makes a twisted kind of sense now, and the realization hits you like a wave. He wanted you to be here, to be a part of this.

“You set this up,” you say, your voice laced with confusion. “Why? Why go through all this?”

His eyes soften slightly, and for a moment, you see a flicker of vulnerability. “Because I’ve always wanted you,” he admits. “Ever since I first saw you with my sister, I’ve been captivated by you. I didn’t know if you’d ever come willingly, so I created a way to bring you into my world.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his words, of the surreal reality you’ve been thrust into. “But why the chase? Why this elaborate game?”

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, the scent of him mingling with the earthy aroma of the willow. “Because I wanted to see if you could handle it, if you could keep up with me. And you did, kitten. You were magnificent.”

The endearment, spoken with a mix of admiration and possessiveness, sends a thrill through you, despite the situation. There’s a dark allure in his words, a promise of danger and desire intertwined. You want to resist, to stand up and walk away, but his gaze holds you, and you find yourself unable to move.

“Now that I have you,” he says, his voice low and intimate, “there’s so much more to show you, to teach you. If you’ll let me.”

The world narrows down to this moment, the choice before you. The party, the chase, everything has led to this point, and you can feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of his desire. Under the willow’s protective embrace, you realize that the game is over, but the real adventure is just beginning.

You take a deep breath, meeting his stare with a hint of trepidation. “Show me,” you whisper, the words barely audible but carrying a world of meaning.

Steve’s eyes grew darker as he stood, pulling you up with him. He took a step closer to you, reaching out to trace the line of your jaw with his fingertips. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded, firm, but gentle.

The look in his eyes was intoxicating, and you find yourself obeying without question. You slipped out of your gown, letting it pool at your feet, standing before Steve in nothing but your lace panties.

Steve’s eyes roamed over your body. “Turn around,” he ordered, and you did, feeling your cream seep from your cunt and soaking your panties.

He pulled you back against him, his hands roaming over your skin as he guided you backwards, sitting back on the bench and pulling you into his lap. You could feel his cock hard and ready pressing against your ass as his fingers traced the line of your panties.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you as his hand dips below the waistband of the garment. You gasped when his fingers found your clit, circling and teasing until you were writhing in his lap. “And you’re being so good for me. Listening and following directions so well.”

“Please,” you begged, not sure of what you’re asking for, but knowing you needed more.

Steve chuckled, his fingers slipping lower and sinking into your soaked cunt. Your body bucked against him as he began to finger you, his movements slow and deliberate. He finds that sweet spot inside of you, curling his fingers and playing you like a violin. The wet squelches surround you, and it was only a matter of time before his skilled digits had you hurtling to your release.

“That’s it, kitten,” his voice raspy and rough. “Come for me.”

Crying out, your orgasm slams into you making you see stars. You scream his name as you come, falling against his chest as he pulls his fingers from your channel, moving back and forth against your clit until another orgasm rips through you and has you squirting and making a mess down the front of his pants.

“Good kitten,” he praises you, lifting you off his lap and placing you between his spread thighs, motioning for you to drop to your knees. In one motion he has his fly unzipped, and his cock free. Wrapping your hair in one hand he guides your head, your mouth watering when you see pre-cum dribbling from the tip.

“C-mon, kitten, open wide.”

Wrapping your lips around him you begin to suck, the salty taste of him making you moan, sending vibrations down his dick. “Fuck, yes,” he rasps, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. “Just like that.”

You continue to suck, your movements becoming sloppy and desperate as he forces you to take him deeper, ropes of spit dripping down your chin and onto your bare tits.

“Enough,” he growls, pulling you off his cock. He stood, gently gathering you in his arms and laying you back on the bench. He kisses down your belly as he slides your panties down your legs, delighted in watching you shudder when his tongue dips between your folds for a taste of your essence. Positioning himself between your spread legs he teases, slapping his cock against your clit before resting his cock against your slit.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, his eyes never leaving yours as he filled you completely with the first thrust.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, your body jolting as he fucked you mercilessly, his cock hitting the perfect spot inside you. He groans when he feels your walls flutter around him, and he ruts into you harder desiring to feel every inch inside of you.

“You feel so good,” he husked, his pace quickening as he chased his release. “Come- come on my cock kitten. Wanna feel you.”

It was an out of body experience when you finally careened over the edge, eyes rolling to the back of your head and your breath hitching in your throat as your nails dug into Steve’s biceps. He follows, his entire body tensing as he spills into you, hot ropes of his seed filling you to overflow.

You lay there, both you and he taking a moment to catch your breath. When you finally look into his eyes, he smirks, leaning forward he nuzzles into the crook of your neck before giving it a nip and sucking a tiny mark into your skin.

“Mine.”

Pulling you into a sitting position before having you straddle his lap, you smile at him as he gives you a deep smile, a triumphant flicker in his eyes as he takes your hand, lifting it to his lips in a gesture both chivalrous and possessive.

“Welcome to my world, kitten.”